


Fifteen Years and Counting

by LovelyLanden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Faeries - Freeform, I swear, M/M, Not for long tho, Slow Burn, there's so much action there's basically no time for fluff until later chapters big yikes, you'll tear up probs but it gets better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-11-13 13:37:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18032744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLanden/pseuds/LovelyLanden
Summary: Where Draco sells his life to a dark mage in order to save his mother and Harry is determined to free him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The fact that there's a character death later in the fic shouldn't scare you because ya boii isn't gonna do you dirty like that okayokay. Draco is also a faerie in this because I thought that'd be a cool spin on things. Enjoy x

Harry always knew there was something off about Draco Malfoy. The way his skin shown like icy frost and his ears were slightly pointed. The blond had almost always hid them behind his hair or convinced Potter it was a trick of the light before scurrying off to his room but when Draco came home with a split lip and black eye, blond hair crusted with blood and skin losing it’s usual brightness, he knew he wasn’t imagining it after all. 

“Draco what--” 

“It’s nothing, Potter,” Draco mutters, wiping blood from his nose and fighting a wince. He moves past Harry with a slight limp, heading up to his room and Harry is flooded with worry. What had Draco gotten himself into? 

Draco falls back onto his bed with a groan and shuts his eyes, hoping it would keep the room from spinning. Going out late tonight was a mistake from the very beginning and even that was an understatement. Draco knew exactly what he was getting himself into the moment he stepped out into the chilled autumn air. 

He feels his wounds healing slowly, cuts knitting back together and black eye yellowing. He knew he was screwed, stuck in a sticky situation he couldn’t wiggle himself out of. Hell, he wasn’t about to ask Potter for help; he had too much pride for that so if he had to take a few beatings in order to keep his ego from bruising, he would. 

The room had stopped spinning by the hour’s end and Draco lets off a lengthy sigh of relief. He could hear Harry pacing in the room over and Draco rolls his eyes. Damn Potter and his worrying. Draco didn’t need to be pitied. He could take care of himself. He twists against his mattress and his ribs ache painfully, as if to remind him that maybe well... he couldn’t exactly. 

He summons his wings to assess them and cringing at the deep gashes lining the delicate feathers and staining his hands crimson, retracting them before stumbling to the bathroom. He grabs a healing salve from under the sink before summoning them again and slowly applies it to his wounds. Draco hisses with pain and curses Merlin for causing his wings to heal slower than the rest of him. 

There’s a knock on the bathroom door and Draco knows right off the bat that Harry was waiting on the other side. He lets off a soft huff of annoyance before asking, “What do you want, Potter?” 

“I just wanted to check up on you,” Harry admits and Draco could almost feel his blush from the other side of the door. 

“I’m fine,” Malfoy says yet his tone is unconvincing. “Honestly,” He continues when Harry’s footsteps continue to shadow beneath the door. “I’ll call you if I need anything,” The two of them both knew that wasn’t true but eventually Harry’s footsteps vanish. Once the ointment had fully soaked in, Draco leaves the bathroom, feeling better already.

He spies down the hallway for Potter and when he finds it empty, he heads to the kitchen and grabs ice to nurse his bruised eye. He runs his free hand through his hair, blond locks still slightly crusted with blood and cringes. He would shower later, he decides. Once his body had fully healed which would be in a few hours, at least. His muscles were incredibly sore, pulsing with pain to the beat of his heart. He shuts his eyes tight again, hoping to will away the pain which continues with no avail. The ice had helped somewhat, numbing the harsh ache and Draco relaxes completely now, shoulder blades tingling from the salve working on his wings. 

It’s two hours later, Draco’s wounds nearing completely healed, when Harry comes down from his room, checking up on him again. “You okay?” He asks gently and Draco nods, fighting a scoff. 

“I will be,” Draco replies, picking at his nearly healed lip. 

“What happened?” Harry asks eventually and Draco shrugs, not meeting his eyes. 

“Nothing of your concern, Potter,” Harry’s eyebrows furrow at that and irritation flickers across his face briefly. 

“Something like this won’t happen again, will it?” Harry’s tone is gentle despite his expression, dripping with worry and Draco softens slightly, sighing. 

“Hopefully not,” Draco shifts the ice against his eye, the majority just water now before sighing again and setting it down. He rubs at his shoulder blades, wings being the last to heal and winces slightly. The ointment was working but... Merlin he wished it’d work faster. He masks the pain the best he can and thankfully, Harry doesn’t notice. Potter merely sits beside Draco on the couch, hands in his lap and looking as if he wasn’t sure what to say. 

“Was there something you needed?” Draco finally asks, eyebrow raised. 

“For you to be okay?” Harry says with a light laugh and Draco rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile. 

“I will be,” He says and Harry’s eyebrows furrow again. 

“Not that I’m not pleased but... how’re you healing so fast?” 

For all Harry knew, Draco was a human so he knew questions would be asked about his speed healing. His skin had begun to go back to it’s usual frosty white and his cuts were almost nonexistent. This would take a human weeks to recover from, not mere hours. “I have a friend who’s a witch like you,” He starts slowly. “She made a healing ointment for me,” What Draco had said wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t the whole truth either. Neither of them were quite ready for that yet. 

“Would I know her?” Harry asks with wide eyes, looking excited and Draco winces before nodding. 

“Pansy Parkinson,” He says, smiling gently at her name before frowning as he watches Harry fight a scowl, his face going neutral again seconds later. “I know you haven’t had the best history with her which... is why I haven’t really had her over,” Draco admits, somewhat sheepish. “But she’s... changed a lot since your war,” He continues confidently. “I’d like to have her over sometime,” 

Harry had Ron and Hermione at least a few times a week. Hermione was someone Draco could take in small doses but Ron was someone he couldn’t stand for more than two minutes and yet he dealt with it. He figured Harry could take Pansy coming over a time or two every once in a while. Potter is quiet for far longer than Draco would’ve liked. “Alright,” He says eventually and Draco lets off a sigh of relief with the smallest ache in his ribs.

“Good,” He mutters. “Because I’d really like to see her.”

Harry watches Draco dial Pansy’s number, frown never lessening. Draco looked so weak, although considerably better than he had been two hours before. 

Draco’s phone call had been short, less than five minutes and when he hangs up, his features are bright with excitement. Harry suddenly feels bad for having kept Draco from inviting Pansy over for so long. “She’ll be here soon,” He informs him. “You’re free to stay with us or...” 

“No,” Harry cuts in. “I’ll probably just head up to my room. It’s getting late anyway,” Draco looks up at the clock, finding it to be just past ten and arches an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. When Pansy arrives, eyeing Draco sat on the couch with the smallest traces of his injuries, she frowns deeply as she takes in a few of the fresh scars. 

“What happened?” She asks. 

Draco takes a quick survey around the room and although not having found Potter anywhere in sight, pulls her close. “I got into a bit of a... scuffle with a dark mage,” He murmurs softly with a deep frown, watching as Pansy’s eyes widen. Mages were much like witches and wizards but created the spells regular witches and wizards learned later on. They were somewhat shunned by Wizarding London and it was rare to come across them. 

“What happened?” She asks softly. 

“I went to her thinking she could help my mum,” He mutters, frowning. “She said that she would as long as I sold fifteen years of my life to her,” 

Pansy’s face pales and she puts her hand over her mouth. “Draco, tell me you didn’t--” 

“No,” Draco sighs. “I didn’t. I was looking through the contract, tried finding some loopholes and she didn’t like that,” He says with a humorless laugh. “She threw faebane in my face and sicked her cronies on me. I tried flying out of there but...” Draco trails off and wordlessly reveals his wings which had mostly healed but had deep red gashes lining them, soon to scar. 

“Draco...” Pansy murmurs softly with tears in her eyes. “You could’ve talked to me. We could’ve figured something out. You don’t have to go to dark mages--” 

“I’m not doing that to you,” Draco says sharply with a dangerous glare. “I’m not turning you dark. I can’t do that to you,” 

Pansy’s cheeks are flushed with tears and she hugs Draco as tightly as she dared, worried she’d worsen his wounds. “I can’t let you just... sell your life off to someone like that,” 

“If it brings my mum back, I’m willing to do it,” His tone was final and he knew that once he was healed and the coast was clear, he’d head back to the mage and make the deal, bracing himself to throw away fifteen years of his life in order to save one of the few he loved.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how italics work on html so if anyone could explain it to me I'd be very grateful haha x

Draco wakes to sharp beams of sun streaming through his window and notices the lack of aches and pains as he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His throat was dry and he still felt partially weak from the lasting effects of the faebane but had potions Pansy had brewed him to help with that. Staggering over to his bedside drawer, he pulls out a small vial filled with violet liquid and downs it in one gulp, waiting a few moments for the effects to take over him.

Once fully healed, Draco heads downstairs to the kitchen where he finds Harry sitting down making coffee and smiles slightly, taking a mug of it as well and sitting down beside him. “Feeling better?” Harry asks and Draco nods as he swallows.

“A lot better, yeah,” He admits. 

Harry nods, looking pleased and drains the rest of his coffee cup before setting it in the sink and pulling on his jacket. “I’ve got to get to work but I’ll see you later,” He says with a soft smile. “Stay out of trouble!” He calls right as he walks out the door, Apparating with a soft pop which has Draco rolling his eyes. He nurses the rest of his coffee with time and formulates a note to Potter while he does. 

_Potter, ___

___I know you won’t understand why I’m doing this but it’s something no one will be able to talk me out of. I’ve sold myself to a dark mage in order for her to save my mother. Pansy already tried talking me out of it and offered to help me but I refuse to turn her dark and wouldn’t dare do that to you too. I don’t think you have a dark bone in your body, regardless._ _ _

_____Take care, ____ _ _ _

_______Malfoy ____ _ _ _ _ _

________He leaves the house once the clock strikes nine, the chill of the air cutting over his sharp cheekbones and he cringes as he heads to his car. He would’ve flown to the mage’s house but his wings still ached painfully and he didn’t trust the long flight._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It takes a few moments for his car to heat up but once it does, Draco lets off a sigh of relief, knowing the goosebumps rising on his skin would soon fade. He thinks back to his mum who laid sickly in her bed and steps on the gas, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. Fifteen years of his life, soon to be gone, a slave to a dark mage who would do as she pleased with him. In retrospect, it wasn’t ungodly long but was still longer than he would like._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He drives in silence, something he otherwise wouldn’t have done but hoped the lack of distraction would help clear his head. He knew his mother would never approve of this but her illness was causing her too much pain; she was too far gone to make any objections, mere inches away from death, Healers not even able to help her and it was too painful for Draco to visit her in her weak state. He missed her; missed her smiles and laugh, the sound of light tinkling bells and knew this would all be worth it. In fifteen years he could see his mother again and she would be healthier than ever._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________When Draco makes it to the mage’s house, a cabin smack deep in the woods, he lets off a final deep breath and exits his car, hands balled into fists, knocking hollowly and stepping back, waiting for the mage to answer. When she does, dressed in black with large, frizzy orange hair and sharp green eyes, she looks Draco up and down with surprise. “Draco Malfoy,” She calls, playing the name on her tongue. “I didn’t expect to see you back here,”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I accept your contract,” Draco murmurs lowly, forcing to keep eye contact with the powerful woman. “Fifteen years of my life in your service to heal my mother,”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The mage, Fawna, ushers Draco inside. “Sign the contract and it shall be done,” She snaps her fingers sharply and takes a roll of parchment from midair moments later, flattening it and offering him a small dagger. “A drop of your blood will bind you to the contract,”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Draco takes a heavy deep breath before nodding and pricking his thumb, pressing it to the paper and leaving a bloody thumbprint behind. The script glows bright before vanishing and Fawna smiles wide. “Lets get started, shall we?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________***_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________When Harry gets home, he instantly knows something is wrong. The house held a sort of emptiness that made his skin crawl and when he finds a note beside Draco’s empty coffee cup, his blood runs cold. He reads the letter twice before it fully sinks in and stumbles over to his Floo on shaky limbs with the parchment still held firmly in his left hand. “Parkinson residence,” He shouts, dropping the ash into the emerald flames and is taken to Pansy’s place, dusting soot off his Ministry robes hastily. “Pansy!” He calls down the first long corridor he sees, hoping she was home._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Potter?” Pansy asks with a raised eyebrow, surprised. She wore a rose gold silken robe, and had her pale arms crossed over her chest, annoyed. “Is there something you... needed?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Draco’s gone,” Harry whispers, wide eyed and hands over the letter he had left._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He watches Pansy’s eyes flit over it, face gone pale the farther she got into it. “Shit,” She whispers, finally setting it down. “He told me about the mage but I didn’t know he was going to go back,”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Harry stiffens at her words. “You knew?” He hisses, eyes narrowed and Pansy nods, looking almost sheepish._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“He told me last night when I came over,” She admits, sighing. “He was still hurt so I figured he wouldn’t try and go back but... I guess he was feeling better this morning,” She grimaces when Harry nods, kicking herself for leaving without having talked him out of it the night before._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Do you know who the mage is?” Harry asks, somewhat hopeful but frowns once Pansy shakes her head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“He didn’t give me a name and my family never associated with mages,” She murmurs sadly. “I don’t know how we’ll find him,” She runs a hand through her hair, looking almost pained. “I don’t want anything happening to him,” She admits and Harry nods in agreement. “Do you know anyone?” She asks and Harry sighs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I can ask around. Maybe someone at Hogwarts would know,” He says hopefully and Pansy nods although she doesn’t look convinced._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Let me get changed and then we’ll go,” Pansy disappears moments after the words leave her mouth and Harry waits awkwardly for her to return. Once she does, dressed in a charcoal grey cloak and snakeskin boots, they Apparate to Hogwarts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Going back to the castle was an odd experience. It had been expertly rebuilt since the last time the two had been there and had wards all the way around it. Harry holds the smallest smile. Although he had many negative memories here, Hogwarts was his home and always would be. “Who do you want to see first?” Pansy asks as they walk through the double doors._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________After a moment’s thought, Harry says, “I think we should talk to Slughorn. He taught Voldemort, surely he would know a few mages,”  
Pansy nods, relieved Harry had at least the smallest idea on who to talk to and stays mostly quiet as they take the stairs to Slughorn’s office. “Harry, my boy! What a surprise!” He grins. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He was the same pudgy, round man as he had been when Harry had first met him, now only with more grey hair and deep set wrinkles. “It’s nice to see you too, sir,” Harry says with a plastic smile. “I was hoping you’d know someone,” He begins awkwardly as Pansy follows close behind him. Slughorn nods, urging him on. “Our friend Draco involved himself with a dark mage and we were wondering if you knew any,”  
Slughorn hesitates for a moment and Harry loses hope as he frowns. “Unfortunately I can’t help you, my boy,” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________From the corner of his eye, he sees Pansy slump with defeat and he tries keeping it off his face as well. “Alright,” He says brokenly. “Thank you anyway, sir,”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Slughorn nods and holds a sad smile. “I don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Harry but I hope you find who you’re looking for. Do stay safe, will you?” He replies and the two of them nod before leaving his office._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Who do we see next?” Pansy asks and dreadfully Harry replies, “Snape? He must have a portrait, shouldn’t he?” Pansy nods wordlessly and follows Harry down to McGonagall’s head office. “He should be down here, right?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Hopefully,” Pansy replies. They knock on the door leading up to her office, gargoyle splayed handsomely at it’s side and soon the door opens and the two walk up the stairs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Mr. Potter, Miss Parkinson, what’re you two doing here?” McGonagall asks, eyes holding surprise from behind her spectacles._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“We were wondering if we could talk to Professor Snape. He must have a portrait, shouldn’t he?” Harry asks hopefully and watches Minerva shake her head sadly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Unfortunately he doesn’t,” She sighs and Harry’s heart drops down into his stomach._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Through a deep frown, Pansy says, “Thank you, Professor McGonagall,” It was the first time Harry had heard her thank anyone for well... anything. She takes Harry’s hand and pulls him back down the stairs and out of the castle, grip rough with irritation. “Bullocks, what are we going to do now?” She asks, letting go of his wrist and pinching the bridge of her nose._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Harry thinks hard for a moment before saying, “We could go to Knockturn Alley. Surely at least someone there should know a dark mage or two,”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Pansy nods slowly and right as Harry is about to Apparate them there, she stops him. “What if we do find a dark mage? How are we supposed to know they’re the right one? Draco didn’t give a gender or description. Are we supposed to just go into this blindly?”  
Harry sighs, hating that she had a point as he says, “As of right now, that’s all we can do,” He then takes her hand and Apparates them to Knockturn without another word._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	3. Chapter 3

“You will be very useful to me, Draco,” Fawna smiles as she leads him deeper into her cabin which... ended up not being much of a cabin at all. It was dark and dreary, almost like Slytherin dungeons and Draco shivers uncomfortably. She knew of the powers Draco possessed; hell, everyone did. Not many faeries had wings and could control and obliterate someone’s mind with a blink of an eye. So of course she would bend over backward to have him, even if she managed to snag him by negotiating. 

“What are you planning on doing to me?” Draco asks, careful to keep the bite out of his tone. 

“You’re going to be my assistant. When enemies get in my way you’ll... get rid of them,” She says and Draco shivers again, balling his hands into fists. 

“Heal my mother first,” He says instantly. “I’m not doing a thing for you until you heal her,” Fawna is quiet for a moment before she eventually nods. 

“Very well,” She replies with a small grin. “I will be back within the hour. When I return, you will do exactly as I say,”  
Draco lets out a deep breath, bracing himself for what was to come and nods, watching as she vanishes in grey smoke. He would have to control people, kill people if that’s what Fawna wanted. A wave of repulsion runs through him at the thought and he wraps his arms around himself, hoping for the slightest bit of comfort. He knew this would all be worth it in the end but hoped desperately that he would come out of this still himself, still sane after these next fifteen years. 

He takes a seat in a spare chair in the corner of the room, the mahogany smooth and shining and lets out a ragged breath. He valued his mother’s life over his own so he knew he had made the right choice yet wasn’t sure he was ready for what Fawna had in store for him but knew he would fight like hell to bear it. 

When Fawna returns, Draco is both relieved and terrified. She assured him that his mother was now healed but she was now ready to use him at her disposal. “What do you need me to do?” Draco asks softly and Fawna only grins. 

“I need you to... change someone’s mind,” She says, a devilish twinkle in those green eyes. 

“Who?” 

“Rufus Scrimgeour,” 

Draco’s eyes widen with slight disbelief but he says nothing as a sour feeling settles in the pit of his stomach and he allows Fawna to grab at his arm, taking them to the Ministry. 

***

Draco was drained. He had never used his powers this much before. God, Fawna was going to use him until he was running on empty. He sits down in a spare chair, brow and hairline damp with sweat and wipes at his eyes with fatigue. Fawna stood, grinning wide as she eyed Draco happily. “You did well today, Draco,” She praises him and the faerie says nothing as he wipes his sweaty hair from his eyes. 

“Am I free to go?” Draco whispers ruggedly and Fawna’s eyes twinkle with amusement. 

“You didn’t really think you were allowed to leave, did you?” She asks with a grin and Draco’s blood runs cold.

“I can’t-- What?” Draco stammers, eyes wide and watches Fawna peel with sardonic laughter. That alone causes his heart to drop down into his stomach with dread. 

“Attempt to leave and I will kill you and all those you love,” She threatens and watches as Draco wilts in on himself. He couldn’t go home. He couldn’t see his mother or Pansy or Harry again for fifteen years... Draco lets out a defeated breath, blinking tears from his eyes. He would be stuck with her and her cronies for years without anyone he knew from the outside. 

Draco runs a hand through his hair with despair and tries to keep his tears to a minimum. He wouldn’t allow Fawna to see him weak. 

Fawna shows him to one of the few bedrooms in the house and Draco sits on the edge of the bed, trying to calm his racing heart. This was the right decision, he knew it was but he wasn’t sure how much of this he could take. He thinks back to what Pansy had said, what she had tried to offer him. Turning dark in order to save his mother. He physically shakes his head, disgusted at the possibility. Pansy had always been surrounded by too much darkness. He wouldn’t allow her to succumb herself to it for him.

Draco looks out the window into the pitch black. The silver moon was the only thing illuminating through the navy sky and Draco can’t seem to take his eyes off it, wishing he could just fly to the moon, away from Fawna and from all his worries and wrongdoings. But he was stuck here, in a cabin with a dark mage for fifteen years with no way of escaping. 

A sob leaves his mouth then and he shuts his eyes as the tears flow, defeated. 

Hours later, the bedroom door opens and Draco bolts up with worry. Fawna must need him again. When he eyes the mage standing in the doorway, he frowns. “Did you need something else?” He asks. His tears had since long dried yet stayed painted sticky on his cheeks and he rubs at his face in the hopes of ridding them. 

“Just heading to bed,” Fawna shrugs and that’s when Draco notices she was in a blue nightgown. It was short, barely making it to her mid thighs and Draco fights back a grimace. Not only was Draco controlling people, taking over their minds and killing them if need be but now he wouldn’t even have a room to himself? He would have to share it with a mage who took fifteen years of his life away? 

He says nothing, simply budges over on the bed and makes room for her. She smiles wide, glad she didn’t need to elaborate and takes the spot right beside Draco so they were sitting knee to knee. When Draco tries moving away, wanting to create as much space between them as possible, Fawna’s eyes darken and he stills in place. Shit, what was it that she wanted from him now? 

She burrows under the covers beside him and Draco lets off a shudder of distaste when she runs a hand up his thigh. He was clad only in boxers and a tee shirt, something he would normally wear to bed but wished now that he had chosen something less revealing. She dips her hand under his boxers and begins stroking him and although completely repulsed, Draco doesn’t object. He had given himself up to her and knew he had to do anything she asked of him. If sex was a part of that contract, well... he would have to deal with it. 

He does cum... eventually. It was a knee jerk reaction, something his body has no control over and he cringes when she begins kissing down his neck. Merlin... now she wanted something in return. He shivers with disgust at the thought of touching her beneath her clothes but shuts his eyes and does so anyway, hoping this would all be over soon and praying this wouldn’t be a normal thing that would happen every night. 

And when Draco goes to bed, Fawna wrapping an arm around his waist, he silently cries himself to sleep, hoping this all would be over quickly, but knowing deep down that it wouldn’t be.

***

Knockturn Alley was a mess of bodies and commotion. Both Harry and Pansy found themselves being knocked and shoved into and Harry knew he’d have bruises when they eventually got back home. Finding a mage had been far more difficult than the two had been expecting. They had come to find that most dark mages had gone into hiding after the war, not wanting to be questioned by Aurors about their possible cooperation with Voldemort so finding one would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. 

Although Harry would never admit it, he was already beginning to lose hope. How in the hell were they supposed to find one dark mage out of the thousands that were in hiding? And how were they to know which one truly had Draco? 

“Where to first?” Harry asks, looking Pansy over. Her face was flushed a light pink from the autumn cold and her eyes were sharp and features grave as she thought. 

“Borgin and Burke’s,” She replies as she scans the shops as they passed. “Maybe one of them ought to know,”  
Harry nods although keeps from getting hopeful. All of their leads had been dead ends so far and he prayed this would at least get them somewhere. The walk to Borgin and Burke’s seemed like miles although it was nowhere close. Everything seemed to go in slow motion although Harry’s heart hammered with adrenaline. If they didn’t get answers here, he wasn’t sure where they would go next. 

Harry had never enjoyed going to Borgin and Burke’s. He had only been there a small handful of times and wanted to leave as quickly as possible each time he entered the shop. It just gave him the creeps, making his skin crawl and his lip to curl with distaste. Pansy takes the lead as the two stroll inside and when she catches sight of Borgin at the front counter, she strides over to him, jaw set with determination. 

“What can I do for you, Miss Parkinson?” He asks with a grim smile and Pansy puts her hands on her hips as she replies. 

“Potter and I were hoping you’d be able to help us,” Borgin raises an eyebrow as his eyes flick over to Harry, catching the scar on his forehead and nods, waiting for Pansy to continue. “We were hoping you’d be able to give us a list of the mages that have come into your shop. One of our friends is... in trouble with one of them and we need insight on who it might be,” 

“I won’t be able to help you there, dear,” Borgin replies. “Client confidentiality is a stern policy here,” 

Pansy scowls and pulls a small pouch from her pocket and throws it onto the counter. A few Galleons spill from the velvet pouch when it lands with a heavy thud. “Is that able to bend the rules a bit?” She asks, tone holding a bite that causes the older man to flinch. 

He looks slightly swayed before eventually shaking his head. Harry comes up beside Pansy then, holding his ground as he says, “Don’t make us ask you again,” 

Borgin’s eyes widen at Harry’s presence, only then realizing that the two weren’t fooling around. They meant business and were willing to do whatever it took to get Draco back. “Can’t,” Borgin says, sounding almost pained. “Burke and I signed a contract under oath not to share client information,” He says through clenched teeth. 

There’s movement at his side and next thing Harry knows, Pansy is pulling a small dagger from her boot and has it at Borgin’s throat in a flash. Borgin coughs as the tip digs into his neck, drawing the slightest bit of blood and his eyes look ready to pop out of his head. “Pansy,” Harry nearly gasps. “St--” 

“What’s going on in here?” 

Harry looks over Borgin’s shoulder to find Burke standing not far off, looking equally alarmed and angered. “Your friend here isn’t giving us the answers we need,” Pansy says venomously, eyes narrowed, dagger unmoving from Borgin’s jugular. 

“And what exactly is that?” Burke asks, arms crossed over his chest as he nears closer, eyebrow raised. 

“We need a list of mages who have come through your shop,” Harry pipes up, his own wand held firmly in his hand, ready to use at a moment’s notice. 

“We can’t give that to you. Client confidentiality,” Burke says, echoing what Borgin had originally told them. 

Harry takes his gaze off Burke to meet Pansy’s whose begin to fill with defeat once again. She takes her weapon off Borgin’s throat and stuffs it into her boot, looking slightly sheepish. “Our apologies,” Harry says quietly before grabbing Pansy’s hand and shuffling quickly out of the shop. “Damn it,” He says once they were back out onto the cobblestone road, running a hand through his hair and dropping Pansy’s. “What are we going to do now?” 

Pansy checks her watch and upon noticing the creeping late hour, she sighs. “Start again tomorrow?” 

Although Harry hated leaving Draco with a dark mage that was doing who knows what to him, he knew Pansy’s suggestion was best. Realistically he had known the two of them wouldn’t be able to find him within the first twenty-four hours but it was still disheartening. 

He sighs and nods slowly, fatigue finally catching up with him. “Alright,” He says. “But we’ll start again tomorrow. I’ll owl you,” Harry promises and Parkinson hums in agreement before walking off without another word to him. Harry watches her go with dread filling his veins. He would find Draco. He had to. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t.


	4. Chapter 4

Days melted into weeks and with time, Draco was becoming more and more run down. Fawna was slowly breaking him in a way his fae healing couldn’t fix. It was becoming a constant cycle of killing, compulsion and sex and Draco was nearing his wits end. He couldn’t take fifteen years of this but he had signed himself off on it so he was forced to endure it all. He wouldn’t put his family on the line in order to save himself. 

It was a Sunday afternoon and Fawna had not called him all day. It was an odd occurrence, something that rarely happened but Draco wasn’t going to question it. She had other slaves; surely he wasn’t the only useful one to her. 

His head pulsed painfully, completely drained. Using his powers always took a mental strain on him and it had been rare for him to use them in the first place but now Fawna was having him use them nearly every day. He groans and shields his eyes from the sun with his forearm, waves of nausea running through him and he takes several deep breaths before it fades. This was beginning to take a toll on him and he didn’t know how much more of this he could take but he wasn’t going to mention it to Fawna. Merlin knew what she would do if she knew how much this was affecting him. 

Although he wouldn’t dare mention it, the physical and mental exertion she was putting him through was slowly killing him. He had lost a considerable amount of weight which he hid behind baggy clothes but his spine, ribs and cheekbones stuck out more now than ever. Draco cringed at himself each time he looked in the mirror and had a tendency to avoid it. 

Standing up from the mattress, Draco heads out of the bedroom and out into the kitchen. He knew Fawna was somewhere but he was starving and hoped she wouldn’t call for him. He makes himself a quick lunch, scarfing it down as quickly as he can before heading to the living room. When he looks out the window, he sees Fawna’s car wasn’t in the driveway and his eyebrows furrow. 

He heads to the front door but as soon as he touches the handle he jerks back, hand searing with pain and he grits his teeth with annoyance. Fawna had put faebane on the knob to keep him from leaving. Draco sighs, laying back on the couch and stares up at the ceiling, unsure what to do with himself. He had become so used to being used by Fawna that he wasn’t sure what to do with himself otherwise. 

Draco couldn’t help but think about Harry and Pansy. What were they doing right now? Looking for him? Or had they forgotten about him these past few weeks? He runs a hand over his face with a groan and sits up, startled when he hears a fresh pair of footsteps enter the room. He locks eyes with a girl with strawberry blond hair and green eyes, much like Fawna’s looking at him with surprise. “Who’re you?” She asks with surprise and Draco merely scoffs. 

“Fawna’s... acquaintance,” Draco replies through his teeth, gaze never leaving hers. 

“Fawna doesn’t have acquaintances,” The girl says and Draco rolls his eyes, quickly becoming irritated.

“How would you know?” He can’t help but snap and the girl crosses her arms over her small chest, becoming agitated as well. 

“Because I’m her sister,” 

It’s Draco whose eyes widen now and he stills on the couch, unsure what to say. Fawna had a sister? Whoever this girl was, she didn’t look like a dark mage so... what was she, if anything?

“A sister?” He hiccups and the girl nods, softening at his question. 

“Yes,” She says. “My name’s Jasmine,” Jasmine puts her hand out for Draco to shake and he does. 

As soon as their hands make contact, a calming warmth washes over him and he gasps slightly, not expecting it. “What--” He stammers and Jasmine chuckles lightly. 

“I’m a light mage,” Jasmine tells him. “I’m sure you’ve noticed how... cold my sister’s touch is. Light mages are different,” 

Draco nods, trying to follow along but quickly becomes lost. “How could you be so good when she’s so...” He trails off with a grimace but Jasmine only laughs again.

“We both have different morals, I suppose,” She shrugs and the smallest smile makes its way onto Draco’s features. He liked Jasmine, he decides. She was sweet, the polar opposite of Fawna and he was relieved to be around someone who wasn’t completely... evil. “What’re you doing in a place like this, anyway?” Jasmine continues with a raised eyebrow and Draco looks down at his hands, smile quickly dipping to a frown.

“I made a deal with her,” Draco admits with a sigh. “Fifteen years of my life so she could save my mum’s life. I knew the sort of magic she’d be using would be dark and I didn’t want to involve any of my friends with that sort of magic. They were both a part of the Wizarding War two years ago. They were surrounded by enough dark magic as it was,” When he looks up at Jasmine, he finds her features to be soft with empathy and the slightest bit of pity which makes his skin crawl. Pity was the last thing he needed. “I’m a faerie,” He tells her quietly. “I knew I’d be useful to Fawna because I have certain abilities she’s envious of and was hoping she’d be able to help me. The contact is longer than I’d like but it saved my mother and that’s all I care about,” 

Jasmine nods slowly, taking this all in and runs a hand through her hair as she thinks, like Draco often did. “I’d like to help you,” She tells him and the slightest bit of hope makes its way into Draco’s veins, eyes bright. “Did you sign her contract with blood?” 

“Yes,” Draco replies, thinking back to the old scrap of parchment that had glowed bright once he had bound himself to it and watches Jasmine frown, causing his hope to deflate. 

“Then there’s no real way for me to do much. The only way you’d be able to get out of it would be if you or someone you loved made a deal with her,” 

Draco’s eyes widen and he slumps back down on the couch, feeling dragged down with defeat once again. There really wouldn’t be a way out of this. His friends and family had no idea where he was, and even if they did, he wouldn’t allow them to associate themselves with Fawna. There was no way she would make any sort of deals with him or his friends so he knew he was screwed for the next fifteen years. He groans into his hands and Jasmine frowns sadly although he couldn’t catch it. 

“She seems to be running you down,” Jasmine points out, just from a quick assessment of the boy. “I can give you a few potions to help with the fatigue. Just don’t tell Fawna you have them or she’ll have both of our heads,” 

Draco nods with a sigh of relief. Help wasn’t something he got much of around here. Fawna was running him into the ground and was glad to finally have someone to help keep him going. He watches Jasmine to go grab him a few potions to help with his fatigue and for the first time in the last few weeks, he feels the slightest bit of hope. Maybe Fawna wouldn’t end up working him to the bone. 

When Jasmine comes back with two vials in hand, Draco smiles softly, thanking Merlin for her help and hoping things would go up from there. 

***

“Maybe we should see Narcissa,” Harry says one morning, three weeks into Draco’s disappearance, the thought finally dawning on him. “He said he had the mage heal her, right? So she’d know what the mage looks like,” 

Pansy’s eyes brighten with hope, something Harry hadn’t had much of in weeks. “You think?” She says, standing from where she sat at his kitchen table, hair wild from running her hands through it. 

“It’s my only lead right now,” Harry admits, standing as well and grabbing his coat, watching as Pansy does the same. “Does she still live at the Manor?” 

At this, Pansy shakes her head. “The Ministry forced the Malfoys to move out before they destroyed it. Said there was too much dark magic and it was best to get rid of it,” Harry’s eyes widen with surprise, not having known this. Draco had never elaborated when Harry had asked him why he had been looking for a roommate. This must’ve been why. 

“Alright,” Harry says, one foot out the door. “Your turn to Apparate then,” Pansy nods, taking his wrist and they enter Narcissa’s new home with a pop. Harry had been spending more time with Pansy than he had ever previously in his nine years of knowing her and found she wasn’t as insufferable as she had been in school. She had grown as a person after the war and Harry couldn’t help but admire her for it. 

“Narcissa?” Pansy calls, stepping inside her home, seemingly unfazed with doing so. “Are you home?” She checks her watch and upon noting the time, realizes the woman should be. She had been back home from St. Mungos for weeks now and was rich enough were she wouldn’t have to work a day in her life. Moments before she’s about to call out her name again, Narcissa comes walking into the room, holding a small smile the moment she sees Pansy, turning slightly confused when she eyes Harry behind her. 

“Pansy, dear, how are you?” She asks. It still shocked Pansy whenever she saw Narcissa now. Her skin wasn’t sickly pale, nor was her hair dull and limp and Pansy has to keep the shock from her face once again. 

“I’m alright,” Pansy mutters, fidgeting where she stood. “Harry and I are still trying to... find Draco,” She admits sheepishly, avoiding Narcissa’s gaze which she knew held pain and disappointment, as it always did at the sound of Draco’s name since his disappearance. “We were wondering if you remembered what the mage looked like. The one who healed you,” 

At this, Narcissa’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure,” She confesses, seemingly kicking herself for it. “She must’ve wiped my memory of her before she left,” Her tone is bitter, cursing the mage for taking her son and her memories and Pansy sighs, frustrated with being met with yet another dead end. 

Parkinson curses under her breath before putting on a sad smile and pulls Narcissa in for a hug, something she soon realized was what the both of them needed. “Alright,” She whispers into Narcissa’s hair, blinking back tears. “We’ll keep looking around. Thank you,” 

Narcissa pulls away and presses a kiss to Pansy’s forehead and smiles softly. “Do keep in touch, will you?” She murmurs and Pansy nods instantly. 

“Of course,” She replies. Pansy watches Narcissa eye Potter from behind her and offers him a gentle nod of thanks. She knew Harry didn’t need to do this. He could’ve just went looking for another roommate the moment Draco left but for some reason he decided to spend every free moment he had looking for her son.

The two of them bid her goodbye before stepping past the door frame. They both sigh with frustration and Pansy offers him the slightest smile of amusement. “Where to now, Potter?” She asks and Harry stills, stopping to think. 

“Grimmauld,” He says finally. When Pansy gives him a confused look, he quickly elaborates. “It’s the house my godfather gave me,” 

Pansy nods slowly and gives him her wrist, waiting for him to Apparate them both. When he does, Pansy gives him another confused look. “It’s just an apartment building,” She states and Harry rolls his eyes. 

“Just wait,” He mutters before stepping up to the worn brick. He waves his wand between numbers eleven and thirteen and moments later, number twelve emerges between them. Pansy stares in awe, wide eyed and Harry chuckles as he opens the door and ushers her inside. “C’mon,” He mutters when she doesn’t move, rolling his eyes. 

After the moment’s prompting, Pansy does as she’s told and scurries inside. Harry watches her eyes flit over the dusty staircase and shelves lining the walls but is grateful when she bites her tongue and doesn’t comment. “What is this place?” She asks with furrowed eyebrows. 

“It used to be the safehouse where refugee witches and wizards would plan to oppose Voldemort and the Death Eaters,” Harry explains quickly, navigating through the house with impressive speed and Pansy fights to keep up. “Like I said, my godfather gave it to me before he died and I just... never really use it. Too many memories,” 

“Alright, and what are we looking for?” Pansy asks, short of breath as she continues to follow after him. The house was bloody huge. Whatever Potter was looking for might take them a while. 

“The house elf that lives here. He might know who to look for,” Pansy’s eyebrows furrow once more. How the hell would a house elf know more than Harry did? Nonetheless, she doesn’t object, not having any further leads. 

When the find the elf, Pansy jolts back with a grimace. The thing was hideous, with wrinkled skin, sunken eyes and grey hairs coming out of his pointed ears, he wasn’t exactly a sight for sore eyes and she finds herself unable to keep eye contact with him. “Kreacher,” Harry begins. “I’m hoping you’ll have some answers for us,” 

Pansy knows instantly that Harry’s approach toward the house elf wouldn’t be effective. Being nice toward their kind almost always got people nowhere. When the elf doesn’t respond to him, Pansy crosses her arms over her chest with irritation. “You’ll tell us what we need to hear, you filthy elf,” She hisses and Kreacher’s eyes nearly light up at the degradation, something he was used to and appreciated. 

“Kreacher will try his best to help,” The elf says with a tiny bow. “What was it Miss Parkinson needed?” 

“We need to know if you or your old master knew of any mages in the area,” Pansy replies, tone holding a sort of sharpness Harry had never heard before even after knowing her for years. 

Kreacher thinks for a moment before replying. “Master Regulus knew of one,” Harry’s eyes brighten, waiting for him to continue. “Her name was Jasmine Markovich. She is a light mage. Kreacher doesn’t know if she is still alive,” The house elf admits and Harry’s excitement quickly deflates. What would they do if she was dead? They weren’t even looking for a light mage.

With a sigh, Harry gives the elf a soft nod. “Thank you, Kreacher,” He says.

“Was there anything Master Harry Potter needed?” Kreacher asks and Harry shakes his head. The elf nods before turning and muttering insults to himself as he leaves. 

“What’re we supposed to do now?” Harry asks with a deep frown and looks over at Parkinson for input. 

The girl only shrugs her shoulders. “Research, I suppose,” She finally comes up with and Harry groans wordlessly as he leads her out of Grimmauld and out to Apparate to Hogwarts, hoping they would be able to find at least the slightest clue.


	5. Chapter 5

Although the potions Jasmine supplied Draco with worked, they didn’t fully do the job. He was often overcome with spells of dizziness after merciless hours of having used his powers. His nausea had subsided and he had begun putting on weight again but he wasn’t fully up to par. He was still constantly plagued with fatigue and was still clammy and pale but it was better than he had been and was something he could work with. 

“Draco!” Fawna calls from another room and Draco looks up slightly with worry. What did the mage need from him now? He walks down the hall to find her and when she does, sitting in her work study, spellbooks laid out around her, he sighs. Damn it. That meant she was looking on something she alone wasn’t able to do and needed Draco’s help and powers with. 

“Yes?” He says once having stepped over the threshold, shaking slightly with nerves. 

“I’m in need of your assistance. I need you to change someone’s mind,” Fawna explains softly, looking up from her spellbooks. 

“Who?” Draco asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“The Minister of Magic,” Fawna says. At this, Draco’s eyebrows furrow. He had already done that once before, the first night into his contract with Fawna. “Come along,” She says, getting up from her desk and moving past Draco, black dress trailing behind her. Draco does as he’s told, tail tucked between his legs and wonders what exactly he had to convince Scrimgeour of now. 

Once Fawna had transported them to the Ministry, right into the Minister’s office, Draco feels his palms instantly dampen with sweat. He hated this. Hated controlling people’s minds, forcing them to do things against their will. He wished he never possessed such a power; it would make his life so much easier if he was a faerie without the flashy abilities.

“Fawna,” Rufus says with a raised eyebrow, surprised to see her. “What’re you doing here?” 

“I need a favor from you,” She replies yet Draco knew whatever she was about to say wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. 

“And what is that?” Rufus asks, lip quirked with slight amusement. 

“I need you to legalize the practice of dark magic,” Fawna replies, eyes bright with excitement. Draco knew this was something Fawna wanted from the beginning, why she wanted Draco so badly because she knew she couldn’t convince the Minister to do something like this on her own. 

“No,” Scrimgeour says instantly. “Mages along with witches and wizards being able to use dark magic legally will only cause havoc,”   
Fawna’s eyes darken and she looks over at Draco expectedly. “Change his mind,” She orders and Draco nods slowly, stepping in front of Rufus and meeting his line of sight. 

“You’re going to legalize dark magic,” He says, tone steady and smooth as velvet yet his eyebrows furrow when Scrimgeour doesn’t falter.   
“What...” Fawna trails off, equally confused and that’s when Draco smells it. The sulfur tang of faebane. 

“He took faebane,” Draco says with surprise. 

Fawna doesn’t miss a beat, although she was equally as shocked as Malfoy was. “Kill him,” She orders calmly. 

Draco stiffens, nearly as shocked as Scrimgeour was at her words. Shit, he was just ordered to kill the Minister of Magic, a major offense that could land him in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Hesitantly he does as he’s told and obliterates the Minister’s mind without blinking an eye, wincing when he drops to the floor like a sack of flour. 

Black dots line Draco’s vision soon after and he falls down beside him seconds later. 

***

“Fuck,” Harry groans, shaking dust out of his hair as he closes the thick textbook in front of him. He hated the Hogwarts library seemingly even more now than he had when he was in school. He checks the Tempus charm Pansy had cast and holds back another groan. They had been at this for hours and had found nothing on Jasmine Markovich. Yet another dead end. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Pansy says, not looking up from her own textbook. “We have to,” 

Harry nods, drugged with fatigue yet not wanting to give up. Draco had been gone for far too long. God knows what sort of state he was in now. He could only imagine what the mage was having him do. The thought makes his skin crawl. 

“The library will be closing soon,” Pansy sighs, shutting her book again. “We can always come back tomorrow,” 

Harry mimics her sigh and casts his book back into place. He knew she was right. They would have to call it a night but Harry didn’t want to stop. He wanted to find Draco as quickly as possible. It was nearing a month since he had left them and Harry didn’t want to dwell on it much. He was already stressed over the situation as it was. He couldn’t afford to have it keeping him up at night as well. But it was killing him not knowing where or who he was with. He was in danger, that much was obvious. Dark mages were never pleasant and Harry hoped desperately that the blond was still alive. He was still so young and it would be tragic if he lost his life, being just over twenty.

“Alright,” He says as he watches her cast away her book as well. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Pansy nods tiredly, dark circles beneath her eyes before leaving Hogwarts yet Harry stays behind, unsure whether he wanted to go home. Their apartment seemed so empty without Draco in it and not in the way that it sometimes was when Draco left the house for work or errands. There was this ominous tension in the air that Harry couldn’t break no matter what he tried. 

Eventually Madam Pince shoos Harry away and he stumbles from the castle, Apparating back to their apartment after minutes of idling. Unlocking the door, he steps inside and kicks off his shoes. The air was thick and Harry shivers uncomfortably as he walks farther inside. He missed Draco. He wasn’t sure if it would be the same as it would’ve been if he knew the boy was coming back. He wasn’t exactly sure what he felt for Draco and the fact that he was in danger was another component that Harry would rather not factor in. 

His feet move on their own accord and finds himself at Draco’s bedroom door. He hesitantly turns the handle and stumbles inside, hoping he could find any clues to who Jasmine Markovich was. Although she was a light mage and not a dark, he knew this was a better lead than they had originally started with in the past month. He was relieved he and Pansy were finally getting somewhere.   
Draco’s room is clean and orderly, something that hadn’t surprised Harry. Malfoy had always been very particular with the cleanliness of their apartment so Harry didn’t even bat an eyelash at his spotless bedroom. Harry hoped the order of it would make looking for clues that much easier only to find out it would make it nearly impossible. If Draco wanted to keep something hidden, filing it away in a particular place Harry most likely wouldn’t find, he knew this was almost hopeless. He plays with the idea of casting a summoning charm but hell, he had no idea what he would even summon. 

With a groan, Harry continues to look around the room for clues. He spots a framed picture of Draco and Pansy on Malfoy’s nightstand and smiles fondly, touched to see how happy Draco was, head thrown back as he laughed, twirling Pansy as they danced in their living room. This had been at Draco’s nineteenth birthday party, Harry realizes. Merlin, that seemed so long ago. 

He sets the photo down and continues his search, opening the boy’s dresser drawers and finds the bottom shelf to be filled with potions. He carefully lifts one of the vials from the holster and reads the description taped to the side. “Faebane antidote/healing elixir” was written in what he guessed was Pansy’s expert scrawl.

Harry’s eyes widen as he reads the label over again. Why the hell did Draco need a faebane antidote? That’s when it hits him. Bloody hell, Draco was a faerie. That explained his speed healing and the reason why he had sold himself to a dark mage. He must have certain powers the mage desired. 

“Shit,” Harry whispers, carefully storing the potion away and shutting the dresser softly. His roommate had been a faerie all this time and he hadn’t had the slightest idea. For some reason, Harry feels the slightest tinge of hurt in his chest. Why had Draco kept this from him? The blond knew he was a wizard. That much had been unavoidable. Everyone and their mother knew who Harry was and since his father was a wizard, Draco had lived in Wizarding London all his life, although not having been a wizard himself. 

He must’ve gotten his faerie genes from his mother, then. That only made Harry wonder whether Narcissa’s sickness had been faerie exclusive. That must’ve been why Draco had gone to such measures in order to save his mother; because he or Pansy wouldn’t have been able to do it and only a mage willing to do dark magic would be able to save her. 

Harry sits with this information for a while. Pansy knew about Draco being fae but she had left that detail out from Harry. Potter couldn’t help but be the slightest bit annoyed with the Parkinson girl. It seemed like the sort of thing someone shouldn’t leave out when they’re looking for a boy who was taken by a dark mage. 

Harry would definitely be bringing this up to her tomorrow morning. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was going to say but he would definitely be giving her a piece of his mind. But for now, he needed sleep. 

Laying back in his own bed, his thoughts are consumed in Draco once again. He knew he and Pansy needed to find Draco soon. They had no other options. They weren’t going to just give up on him, let him spend however much time he had bound himself to with this mage. It was killing him how Draco was alone in this, how he thought he couldn’t involve him or Pansy into the mix to help save his mother. 

Sure, he and Draco weren’t the closest but they were roommates. They shared an apartment together for just under a year, he figured Draco would’ve been comfortable enough to come to him for something like this. He’d rather it was him than a dark mage but... Draco was stubborn and Harry knew that. He hoped that once they found him, once they got through this, Draco would confide in him fully. 

Sighing heavily, Harry slips out of his jeans and tries his best to sleep, knowing he’d have a long day ahead of him. 

***

Draco awakens with a pounding head and dry mouth. He cringes as he opens his eyes to the dimly lit room, finding himself all alone. Observing his surroundings further, he finds himself back at Fawna’s cabin and he stifles a groan. When had he gotten here? Last he remembered, he had killed the Minister and everything else was fuzzy. 

At the memory of the Minister’s passing, the blond’s heart races sporadically. He had done that. He had killed someone. Bending over the bed, he dry heaves, disgusted with himself and his actions. He had never killed anyone before; just a small animal accidentally as a child. Not once did he ever think he would have to use this power to kill a person. Draco always figured this power was for emergencies only. The concept of actually using it had never crossed his mind. 

Regaining his breath, Draco puts his head in his hands. He had killed the Minister and then fainted. He hoped desperately that Fawna wouldn’t punish him for his weakness. He stands from the bed, still slightly disoriented and moves to find Fawna, hoping she wouldn’t be far off. He wasn’t sure if he could make it through the entirety of the house. “Fawna?” He calls softly. 

It’s not Fawna that meets him in the hallway, but Jasmine instead. When she sees him, sickly pale, not in the beautiful arctic way it usually was when he was at full health, she frowns deeply. “Draco,” She murmurs, rushing to his side. “What happened?” 

“She made me kill the Minister,” Draco whispers, not meeting Jasmine’s gaze as she leads him over to the couch. “I didn’t want to. I didn’t--” 

“I know, Draco. I know,” Jasmine coos, running a comforting hand through his hair and Draco finds himself leaning into her touch. 

“I’m bad,” Draco whimpers. “She’s turning me bad,” Tears pool in his eyes and Jasmine doesn’t comment when they soak into her cloak. 

“You’re not bad, Draco,” Jasmine disagrees. “You sacrificed yourself to save your mother. That in itself shows how good of a person you are,” Her tone is stern, driving home the intensity of her statement and Draco fights hard to keep the sob from escaping deep in his throat. Draco didn’t feel good at all. He knew his mother would be disappointed in him if she ever knew what he had done but he needed to save her. He couldn’t watch her wither away any longer. It was killing him almost as much as it was killing her. 

“Thank you,” Draco says, voice nearly too quiet to hear. “Thank you,” He repeats, intimidated by the silence. He had been surrounded by too much silence, lately. Draco didn’t know how long he had been out for and had been dead to the world the entire time. He felt like he had experienced enough silence and isolation for a lifetime. 

“No need to thank me, Draco,” Jasmine replies gently, hand in his hair never stilling. “They don’t call me a light mage for nothing,” 

Draco lets off a halfhearted chuckle and falls asleep in the mage’s arms, feeling at peace for the first time in weeks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a long one, folks. Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I've been super busy but will hopefully update more often. Get ready for a shit ton of time skips because who would I be if there weren't any?? Much love x

Harry was drowning in paperwork. He was stuck in his Auror office, apprentices dealing with the light workload so he could catch up on his desk work. Final case analyses, cold cases and unfinished letters to the Minster but stops short when he sees the Prophet sitting under a large mountain of parchment.

MINISTER OF MAGIC MURDERED? was displayed handsomely on the front cover with a marbled coffin being lowered to the ground and Harry’s eyebrows hit his hairline. Stumbling over to his Floo, he quickly Firecalls Pansy. “Have you seen the Prophet?” Harry asks before she could greet him. 

“No,” Pansy says and Harry could nearly hear her frown as there’s a loud rustling as she shifts through her mail. “Bloody hell,” She says eventually. “You think it has something to do with the mage?” 

“That’s what I was thinking,” Harry says, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I can check my records here to see if there has been any mages in the past few years that have been causing any trouble,” He informs her quickly. “I’ll get back to you if I find something,” 

Pansy hums softly, cursing under her breath as she reads the headline again before letting him go. Harry couldn’t believe this. They may finally be getting somewhere. They weren’t just stuck with just a name to a mage that didn’t match. 

He shuffles through file upon file of paperwork for hours, about to give up when he comes across a case from five years prior. MARKOVICH, FAWNA. NOVEMBER 1994 

With wide, eager eyes, Harry opens up the file and skims through it. A photo of a red haired, wild eyed mage captures his attention and he shudders, intimidated by the mere sight of her. Fawna Markovich, a dark mage who had been trying to legalize practicing dark magic for years, killing whoever necessary to get her way but yet to be successful and had been sent to Azkaban for a three year sentence. Was she the one who killed Rufus Scrimgeour? 

Harry reads her file over again. She seemed like a pretty decent match but he also didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Shoving her file into his pack, Harry sits back down at his desk, excitement swelling in his chest. He was finally feeling something other than dread and hopelessness. 

The day passes by slowly after that. Finding that shred of information had been the highlight and everything else had been incredibly dull. When he gets home, somewhat drained, he makes sure to send the file off to Pansy with his owl before curling into bed and listening to the rain hit the roof. Harry always hated rainy days. The only good thing about them was that he and Draco would often spend it together, not wanting to head outside no matter what responsibilities lie ahead. With a frown, Harry is hit with the realization that yet again, he didn’t have Draco for company. 

With a sigh, Harry turns on his side in bed and tries getting some rest. He had been working himself into the ground trying to find Draco and was frustrated with constantly being stuck at dead ends. He could tell Pansy was becoming frustrated as well although she tried her best not to show it. 

Harry’s owl returns the moment Potter had begun to doze off. He groans softly and opens his window to let the owl in, frowning when he sees the brown parchment being dropped onto his bed. What the bloody hell was that? It definitely wasn’t the files Harry had sent to Pansy thirty minutes before. 

When he opens the letter, he finds Pansy’s pristine writing on the inside. 

Potter,   
I’m going to keep the files for a bit, try and do some research at Narcissa’s library and try and find something. Keep looking around your office. I think this is a good thing. We might actually be getting somewhere.   
-PP 

Harry sets the letter down on his bedside table and calls it a night, hoping more progress would be made the following morning. 

***

Draco was feeling the slightest bit better. He had cried himself out and now hoped he’d be able to start fresh again. Emotionally, at least. He was glad that Jasmine had been there for him but was also incredibly embarrassed. Malfoys didn’t cry. Especially not in front of other people. 

Jasmine didn’t mind much. She even seemed happy that Draco trusted her enough to confide in her. But every time Draco came across her, he tended to scurry off with shame, blushing as he ducked his head and left her line of sight. Jasmine didn’t take this to heart, of course. She could guess how secretive of a person Draco must’ve been. He hadn’t even told his family or friends where he was going, for Merlin’s sake. That boy had a heart of gold and didn’t deserve to be here. He deserved to be home, feet laid on the coffee table with the fire blazing strongly not far off, roommate along with friends and family at his side, not glued to Fawna’s hip, ready at her every beck and call. 

Draco groans as he lays down on the mattress, exhausted. Although Fawna wasn’t working him as hard as she had been ever since Draco had killed the Minister, she also wasn’t taking it easy on him. Since using his powers was out of the question for the time being, she often used him to fulfill her sexual needs which constantly left Draco feeling used and disgusted with himself. He would almost rather have his powers being tested, leaving him drained but physically intact. When Fawna was done with him, Draco was always a right mess. 

He had begun leaving the bed in the middle of the night once he knew Fawna was asleep, escaping to the living room and sitting in the windowsill with his knees pulled to his chest, watching droplets of rain race down the glass as he cried silently until his cheeks were sticky with tears and he knew no more would come. Draco had never thought of himself as a weak person but he didn’t know where all his strength had disappeared to. 

Somewhere along with his dignity, he supposed. 

After an hour’s avoidance, Draco stumbles back into bed, steering clear from Fawna’s reach the best he can. He tries to fall asleep but restlessness comes with no mercy. Draco stifles a groan, not wanting to risk waking Fawna and tosses in bed again, grimacing at the creak of the springs, hoping desperately that he hadn’t woken the mage. 

“Draco?” Fawna calls sleepily and Draco curses under his breath, forcing himself to turn to face her, face lined with a fake smile. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” The blond admits softly and Fawna frowns, a pout that causes Draco’s skin to crawl with irritation. He hated that look. He knew what it meant. Her pout turns devilish and she slips her hands under the covers, down Draco’s abdomen and underneath his boxers, causing Draco to shudder but not with pleasure. The times Fawna and Draco had had sex, Draco hadn’t managed to stay hard for the entirety of it which he could tell frustrated the mage to no end. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispers into the darkness, not having hardened in her palm. 

Fawna says nothing, her face holding the same frustration Draco had become accustomed to. She takes Draco’s hand and runs it down her chest, over the valleys of her breasts and down her stomach which was lined with dark tattoos. She had a nice body, Draco would give her that, but it just wasn’t something he was interested in. He wasn’t about to tell the mage he was interested in men, however. He wasn’t sure how Fawna would react to that and he wasn’t in a position to find out.

He was bound to a contract with her; it was probably best not to upset her. 

When she comes, Draco turns over not long after, not saying a word. Fawna lets off a sight whine of annoyance but doesn’t say anything else as Draco shuts his eyes and feins sleep. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this but yet had been telling himself that for weeks. 

This was worth it, he knew it was. It was the mantra he had been telling himself since the first day he had walked through Fawna’s front doors. The strain on his mental and physical health in exchange for the cure to his mother’s illness meant more to him than his selfish needs. He had been healthy and his mother had not. The choice was easy. 

As Fawna’s soft breathing dominates the otherwise silent room, Draco wonders about Harry, what the boy was up to. Was he working to find him or had he given up after the first dead end? A part of him regretted not giving the slightest clue where he was but a part of him was glad. If they couldn’t find him, they wouldn’t be putting themselves in danger trying to find him. But he couldn’t imagine not seeing his family or friends for over a decade. He hoped desperately that they would all be alive by the time he was freed, not wanting all of this struggle and strain to be for nothing but pushes that thought away as soon as it comes. He couldn’t think negatively. Couldn’t regret his decisions because there was no way to back out of them. What was done was done. There was no changing it and he had to live with that.  
When the sun begins rising low against the thick pine trees, Draco stretches, shoulders aching. His wings were sore; he hadn’t used them in weeks. He hadn’t had the chance to; the only occasions Fawna let Draco outside was when she was transporting them off somewhere using her magic only, no help from him. He was also worried about the state of them; the last time he had inspected them, they had been injured from the mage herself, wounds deep although the healing ointment had done its best to salvage them. 

Draco needed to stretch them, work the kinks out of the delicate muscles but knew Fawna wouldn’t allow any such thing. Draco couldn’t remember the last time he had gone outside on his own free will. 

Draco leaves the mattress silently, quickly learning how to keep from disturbing the bedsprings and waking the mage beside him. He knew Jasmine must be around somewhere; she always seemed to stay close to Draco now ever since she had first met him and for that Draco was grateful. He had lost count how many times she had helped heal him when his faerie healing was failing him, body and powers burnt out after such burden. 

“Jasmine,” He called out into the golden light of the sun as he tiptoed through the house. Jasmine was nearly as quiet as he was and he had trouble spotting her throughout the cabin. She was a master of secrecy. 

“Draco?” Her voice is soft and light and Draco is instantly soothed by it. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” 

Draco nods shortly, rubbing at his shoulder blades. “I need to be outside, if only for a few minutes,” He murmurs. “I need to stretch out my wings. It’s been too long since I’ve used them,” 

Jasmine gives him a look of pity before motioning her to follow him. The blond does as he’s told and sighs with relief as she turns the doorknob, faebane dusting the bronze not bothering her, unlike it would for him. When he steps past the threshold, he hisses with pain, as though he were being burned. What was that? What had Fawna done? 

When Jasmine notices the boy wincing with pain, her eyes widen slightly and she waves a hand, murmuring an illegible spell under her breath. Moments later, the searing pain is gone. Draco lets off another sigh of relief, the screaming of his nerves slowly lessening. “What was that?” Draco pants, sweat beading at his hairline. 

“Fawna must’ve put a ward around the house to keep you from leaving unless she’s with you,” Jasmine scowls and Draco sighs with annoyance but doesn’t expect anything less. She then offers Draco an encouraging smile, waiting for him to summon his wings and after a moment’s pause, he does. 

He watches her take them in with wide eyes and the slightest dropped jaw and he chuckles as he stretches them to their full width. When he turns his head to inspect them, his grin instantly dips into a frown. The gashes he had come to Jasmine’s with were lined with yellowish green infection and he winces. That must’ve been why they hurt so much. When had the infection started? 

“Shit,” Draco mutters, watching Jasmine’s eyebrows furrow with worry as well. 

“I have healing potions you can take,” She says before Draco could speak again. “Follow me,” 

Draco nods, folding his wings back in and sways slightly, dizziness washing over him. He grabs onto Jasmine’s wrist as they walk back into the house, hoping the trek to her room wouldn’t be long. Thankfully it hadn’t been and she sets him down on her bed before rummaging through the large trunk in the corner of the room. When Draco tries catching a glimpse inside, he finds a plethora of different potions inside. 

When Jasmine comes back to him, she hands them three different potions and orders him to drink them. He does without complain and once he had swallowed all three and handed back the vials he asks, “Why isn’t my fae healing working?” His voice comes out small and panicked and her features soften at the sound of it. 

“I think she put a spell on you when you signed the contract. It seems to be slowing down your healing. My guess is so you’re not strong enough to use your powers on her but are still able to use it on those that she wants you to,” 

Draco groans with annoyance and puts his head in his hands. “Always one bloody step ahead,” He mutters bitterly. He feels the potions, slowly but surely healing his wings and lessening the dizziness. His shoulder blades no longer ached painfully and his head had begun to clear, the fog lessening with every passing moment. “Thank you,” He says, finally looking up and offering Jasmine a small smile. “I really appreciate it,” 

Jasmine nods in the gentle, calming way she always did whenever Draco would thank her. Draco guessed Fawna didn’t thank her very often. “You should get back to Fawna,” She suggests. “Call for me if you need to stretch your wings again,” 

Draco nods appreciatively before heading back to the bedroom, letting off a sigh of relief when he finds Fawna still asleep. He heads back under the covers and feins sleep until she wakes again, forcing stillness when she presses a kiss to his temple. He turns on his back when she leaves, door shut firmly behind her and Draco lets off a relieved sigh. The potions were still working their way through his body and Malfoy allows himself the relaxation, knowing it he wouldn’t get much of it once he got up again. 

When there’s a knock on his door, Draco sits up groggily. Whoever it was, it wasn’t Fawna or Jasmine. Jasmine’s knock was lighter and Fawna had a tendency not to knock at all. “Who is it?” He asks hesitantly. 

The door opens and one of Fawna’s many cronies, a goblin Draco had quickly disliked, stumbles into the room. “Mistress Fawna would like to see you,” He says and Draco sighs, nodding and getting out of bed. He follows the goblin down the hall where he lead him to her and when Draco catches her in her usual black dress, wearing Draco’s family ring, the crest shining proudly against her pale fingers, his eyes widen. 

“This is beautiful,” She grins, showing it off to him and Draco’s blood runs cold. 

“My ring,” He whispers softly with disbelief and Fawna only smiles wider. 

“I hope you don’t mind, do you?” She asks, grin turning devilish and Draco forces a smile of his own. 

“Of course not,” He says through gritted teeth. 

Fawna quickly assesses his agitation which only fuels her motive. “Great,” She chirps and Draco has to fight back a string of curses as she turns his back to him and towards her work. Draco had never taken a proper look at whatever paperwork she possessed although he had been tempted many times. He wanted to know what she was planning; what she had in store for him and the things she would later make him do. 

“Was there something you needed me for?” Draco asks tersely and Fawna pivots to meet his gaze. 

Fawna nods, as if finally realizing the reason she had called for him in the first place. “I need you to owl something for me,” She says and Draco nods shortly when she hands him a small package. 

“What is it?” He asks with furrowed eyebrows and Fawna shrugs nonchalantly in a way that made Draco’s skin crawl. 

“That’s for me to know and for the world to find out, love,” She grins and Draco suppresses a sigh as he rotates the package between his hands. 

“Alright,” He says with another forced smile. “Consider it done,” Fawna smiles and kisses Draco lightly on the lips and he fights hard to keep from recoiling with distaste. They had never properly kissed before; forehead and cheek kisses, sure but never on the lips. Draco feels as if his own were burned, hating the feel of it but says nothing else as he leaves the room. 

When Fawna is out of sight, he goes hunting for Jasmine. When he finds her in her usual study, nose buried in a book, he clears her throat to get her attention. “Hey Draco,” She greets. “How’re you feeling? Did you need to stretch out your wings again?”

Draco shakes his head slowly and rolls his shoulders to test the ache, finding there to be slim to none. “I was hoping you’d be able to help me with something else,” He admits. Jasmine sits up, intrigued now as she puts her book to the side. “I need you to duplicate this package,” He says quickly. “A few of my friends they... they’re looking for me but I don’t think they know where to look. I was thinking that if I set this package to them that they’d get a lead on where to look,” 

Jasmine nods, taking the package from Draco’s gentle hands. “Who’s looking for you?” 

“My friends Harry and Pansy,” 

“Harry Potter?” The light mage asks with wide eyes. “You know Harry Potter?” 

Draco groans, running a calloused hand over his face. “That’s not-- That’s not the point, Jas,” He says with the slightly smile. “If they find me they might be able to break the contract and get me home,” At this, Jasmine is intrigued. She murmurs a spell under her breath and moments later, there are two packages in her hands. “Thank Merlin,” Draco whispers with a sigh of relief and Jasmine grins at him, pleased with her work. “Do you know what this is?” He asks, hesitant to break the wax seal. 

“I think it’s something she’s sending to a prisoner at Azkaban,” Jasmine says with equal softness. 

Draco’s eyes widen at the information. “Who?” 

“Thorfinn Rowle,” Draco’s eyebrows furrow at the name, one he didn’t recognize. “He fought in the Wizarding War with Voldemort,” She explains at Draco’s silence. “I’m guessing he has connections Fawna wants,” 

Draco nods slowly, picking a quill up from Jasmine’s side desk and scribbles a small note on the front of the duplicated package. He then moves to the owl who sat handsomely in the cage in the corner of Jasmine’s room, unlocking the cage and edging the owl out. “Send this to Harry Potter,” He murmurs as he latches the package to the bird’s leg. 

He then opens the window, watching the owl fly out into the distance, a brown speck in an otherwise deep navy sky. Draco had a good feeling about this. Harry would find him. He had to. 

***

It’s early afternoon when Harry finds an owl pecking at his window. With furrowed eyebrows, Harry opens it and lets the unfamiliar owl in. He takes the brown package from it’s leg, feeding it a few pellets before watching it retreat back to it’s home. When he turns the package over, he finds Draco’s familiar handwriting dominating the majority. 

Potter,  
I’m sorry I hadn’t told you where I was going but I had to save my mother and there was no talking me out of it. I wasn’t going to let her die and I’m sure a part of you understands. Pansy has probably filled you in on a lot but there are things she still doesn’t know. I’m staying with a mage named Fawna deep in the woods, although I’m not sure where. She cast a spell on me that doesn’t allow me to leave her cabin without her so I’m not sure how I’ll leave if the opportunity presents itself. 

She’s running me into the ground, Harry. I’d appreciate it if you and Pansy found me quickly because I’m not sure how much longer I’ll last. In this package should be things she wanted me to send someone I’m guessing is in Azkaban so use that information as you will. 

Stay safe,   
-DM 

Harry has to read the letter twice more before it fully sinks in and still he eyes it with disbelief. If this mage had as much power over Draco as it seemed, how had he managed to send this letter without her knowing? Was someone helping him? 

With shaky hands, Harry Apparates to Pansy’s house, knocking desperately on the deep cherry wood. When Pansy takes Potter in from the opposite side of the door, she raises a dark eyebrow at him. “Potter,” She greets with slight confusion. 

“I got an owl from Draco,” He pants, eyes wide and Pansy snatches the letter from his hands, reading it over hungerly. 

“How--” She begins as she ushers him inside and Harry shakes his head. He knew as much as she did. 

“I don’t know. We just need to find him as soon as we can. Is there any way we can track the package?” Harry asks, waiting anxiously as she thinks. 

“I’m not sure,” She eventually admits. “Let's check what’s inside first,” She says, pointing the tip of her wand at the dark parchment. Harry nods as she picks it up and undoes the wax seal, eyes wide as it ignites with flames. 

“Watch out!” He yells but is too late. The package explodes in Pansy’s hands, like a bomb and the blast tosses them both backward. Harry hits his head painfully on the corner of Parkinson’s coffee table and groans, touching the sore spot and wincing when his hand is sticky with blood. “Pansy,” He croaks. “Are you alright?” 

He fights to blink away the black dots dancing across his vision long enough to spot Pansy not far off from him, clutching her elbow which jutted out at an unnatural angle, hands looking severely burned from the blast and he winces. “I think my arm is broken. No, I know my arm is broken,” Pansy replies through gritted teeth. “You?”

“I hit my head on your sodding coffee table,” Harry snaps bitterly. “I’m bleeding a bit and might have a concussion but otherwise I think I’m fine,” 

“We need to go to St. Mungos,” Pansy bleats stupidly and Harry nods, stumbling toward her and Apparates the two of them to the hospital. Neither of them land on their feet, lying in a heap on the marble floor and when the closest Healers see them, they scurry over with wide eyes. 

“We got hit with some sort of bomb,” Harry explains before they could ask. “I hit my head pretty hard and Pansy she... screwed up her arm,” Pansy laughs, a sort of high pitched hysteric cackle and Harry cringes at the sound of it. He had never witnessed her like this before. 

The Healer calls for help and soon enough, they’re both being put on stretchers and taken off to be looked at. Harry fights the darkness the best he can but eventually succumbs himself to it, being blanketed in a comforting blackness and not minding at all. 

***

When Harry wakes, he finds the back of his head dressed in some sort of gauze and has a bitter taste coating his tongue. He groans, trying his best to sit up and take in his surroundings. He was in a hospital room, that much was obvious with it’s white walls and loudly animated monitors. But where was Pansy? 

He presses the nurse call button at the side of his bed and waits for the Healer to arrive in order to ask questions. When a petite brunette witch enters the room and offers Harry a friendly smile. “What can I help you with, Mr. Potter?” She asks. 

“I was wondering if my friend Pansy Parkinson was okay,” It was odd calling her his friend but he supposed that’s what they were now. After spending a multitude of weeks together, they had grown rather close and Harry still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. 

“Last I checked she’s stable,” The Healer confirms and Harry nods, relieved. 

“Am I able to leave?” Harry asks and after looking at his chart, she eventually nods. “Which room is Pansy in?” 

“193 on the fourth floor,” 

Harry nods, getting up from the bed and goes to the nearest elevator. The room comes in waves and Harry stumbles when he goes to hit the elevator door. Taking a few deep breaths, the room steadies by the time it arrives. Hitting the fourth floor button, he grabs a tight hold of the railing as the elevator descends and sighs with relief when they open once again. 

He finds Pansy’s room quickly and doesn’t bother knocking as he makes his way inside. Harry finds her sitting in a hospital bed with an IV stuck in her non-injured arm and he smiles sadly at her as he sits down at a chair at her side. “What’s the damage?” He murmurs hoarsely. 

“My hands are pretty burned,” Pansy says with a humourless laugh. “And my arm is broken,” Her voice comes out frustrated along with her eyebrows which are deeply furrowed and Harry sighs. “The Healers said they’re going to get in contact with one of their Medi-witches. I guess whoever screwed with that package made it that if anyone tried to open it, it’d be harder for their wounds to heal so basic potions won’t work,” 

When Harry looks over at Pansy again, he finds her looking less worried than he figured she should’ve been. “Why aren’t you panicking?” He asks at last and Pansy lets off the smallest smile.

“I had my fair share of panicking while you were off in lala land,” She snorts. Harry scowls and Pansy offers a grin Harry had become used to over these past few weeks. He had come to not only become used to it but had started to enjoy it instead of roll his eyes indignantly. 

“Are you going to be alright?” He asks, softer than he had intended but meant it all the same. He had come to care for her, he realized and wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about that. 

“I’ll be fine, Potter,” Pansy murmurs but Harry had his doubts. What if she wouldn’t be? What if Draco would never see her again if they ever managed to find him? Harry didn’t even want to imagine that. 

He wanted to ask Pansy if she was sure but was interrupted by a Healer coming into the room and shooing him off. With a hesitant sigh, he bids Parkinson goodbye and heads back to her flat. He had to find out what had happened with that package and knew just who to ask. 

***

It doesn’t take Fawna long to realize something was wrong. She hadn’t gotten a message back from Thorfinn and knew Draco must’ve been the reason behind it. “Draco,” She calls and the blond comes stumbling into the room moments later. “Do you know what happened to that package I had you mail?” She asks sweetly and watches Draco freeze in the doorway. 

“I sent it like you asked me to,” Draco says hesitantly. “Why?” 

“I haven’t gotten any replies,” Fawna says with a shrug. “Do you know why that is?” 

Draco shrugs his shoulders lightly with furrowed eyebrows. “No,” He admits and Fawna puts her hands on her hips, not believing a word that left the boy’s cherry lips. 

“It’s odd,” Fawna continues, getting up from her desk. “I saw my owl return late last night when it should’ve returned sooner than that if you mailed it when I told you to,” 

The blond has to fight hard to keep the shock from his face. Shit, he was screwed if he couldn’t think on his feet. “Maybe your owl needed a rest on the way back,” He says stupidly and cringes when Fawna’s face sours. 

“Or,” She murmurs, terrifyingly calm. “You sent off the package to someone else first and duplicated it,” Draco can’t keep his eyes from widening now. How had she figured him out? “ I had a tracker on the package, you see. If it didn’t end up where I wanted it to, it wouldn’t end well for whoever opened it,” 

Draco’s blood runs cold at her words. What happened to Harry? Or Pansy? “What happens?” He whispers.

At this, Fawna smiles devilishly. “It explodes,” She says simply and Draco stills on the spot. He wants to not believe her, wants to believe she’s bluffing but from the pleasured look in her eye, he knows she’s not. Were his friends still alive? Had they somehow survived the explosion? 

Draco’s blood runs cold and he fights to keep tears from his eyes. If his friends were dead... he wasn’t sure if this was all worth it. He didn’t want them endangering themselves for him in the first place and if they were killed because of this, he knew he would never forgive himself. The blond says nothing else to Fawna before he leaves the room, not bothering to explain himself. He was caught red handed and he knew it. 

He hoped Jasmine would somehow be able to find out if his friends had survived the blast because he knew there was no way he’d be able to. Not with that ward around the house, causing him to stay put unless Fawna was at his side. When he looks around the house, he can’t find Jasmine anywhere in sight and he bites his lip to keep it from trembling as he heads back to his bedroom. 

He could kill Fawna without so much as batting an eyelash. He knew that he could and he was so angry the thought was incredibly appealing but he also didn’t know what would happen to the contract if he did. Would the healing she had done on his mother be revoked and this had all been for nothing? Would the spell backfire and kill Narcissa instantly? 

Draco wished he had read the fine print but knew there was no going back now. If Fawna saw him inspecting the contract again, she surely would’ve had her minions beat him again and refused any sort of deal with him. He knew what’s done was done and there was no changing it. He had made a decision and had to live with it, even if his friends ending up dying in the process. 

If that were true, Draco knew once the fifteen years were up he would make things right. He would kill Fawna the moment the contract was revoked and would try to fix what he had ruined. He wasn’t sure how exactly he would manage that but he supposed he had just under fifteen years to figure it out. 

Collapsing on the bed, Draco puts his face in his hands and sobs, praying to Merlin that his friends were somehow alive. 

***

Harry had no bloody clue how he would manage this on his own. With Pansy still in the trauma unit at the hospital, he was forced to juggle work with trying to find Draco and was quickly becoming run down but he refused to stop until he physically couldn’t take it any longer. He couldn’t take a break when he knew Draco was out there doing god knows what so he didn’t dare make time to rest when he knew Malfoy was doing anything but. 

Potter visited Pansy almost daily and it was his fourth visit when he hears someone say, “Jasmine Markovich here to pick up five vials of faebane antidote,” 

Harry pivots on his heel, halfway to Pansy’s hospital room with wide eyes and comes in contact with a strawberry blond at the pharmacy pickup, talking to a petite Mediwitch with a fond smile. “Jasmine Markovich,” He echoes in call and the girl looks up with slight confusion before locking eyes with Harry. 

“Harry Potter,” She replies with surprise. “What do I owe the pleasure?” 

She pockets the vials into her robes and nears closer to him, gaze flicking up to his scar before meeting his eyes again. “Regulus Black’s house elf told me about you and I was hoping you’d be able to help me find someone. Draco Malfoy,” He murmurs, tugging at her wrist to an abandoned corridor. 

Harry watches as her eyes brighten with recognition and she straightens. “My sister has him bound to a contract,” She explains and Harry nods, aware of this. 

“I know,” He replies. “He told me in a letter before he left. We had no idea how to find either of you,” 

“We?” Jasmine asks with furrowed eyebrows and Harry nods. 

“Draco’s friend, Pansy Parkinson,” He supplies quickly. “We’ve been trying to track both of you down for months but had no idea where to start. Kreacher gave us your name and I found some of your sister’s records in some Ministry files but otherwise we were stuck,” Harry admits. 

“What do you need me to do?” Jasmine asks softly, watching Harry think. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He hadn’t expected to find Jasmine this quickly. 

“Follow me,” Harry begins, stumbling forward to Pansy’s room, Jasmine coming to his side. When they enter Pansy’s room, the black haired girl eyes Jasmine with confusion. 

“Harry what--” She mutters with furrowed eyebrows. 

“This is Jasmine Markovich,” Harry says, trying his best to mask his excitement. 

Pansy’s eyes widen, the smallest smile making its way onto her lips. Harry could recognize the walls she had up, not wanting to get her hopes up before having things crash and burn. “You can help us?” She asks in a whisper. 

“I can try my best,” Jasmine says, not bothering to hide her own excitement. “What do you need me to do?” It was the same question she had asked Draco and Pansy looked equally as puzzled. She hadn’t expected things to move this quickly, just as Harry had. 

“Try and keep Draco out of harm’s way,” She begins, thinking quickly. “Harry and I will try and figure out the rest and will try to contact you,” 

Jasmine nods, smile never lessening. “I’ll try my best,” She promises. “Don’t sign your name on the parchment and spell the ink invisible incase anyone else finds it,” The strawberry blonde tells them. “I’ve got to get going but I’ll get in contact with you soon,” 

Draco nods, thanking her quickly before she leaves. When Harry and Pansy are alone, they lock eyes as Harry takes a seat in the nearest chair. “Holy shit,” Harry whispers eventually and Pansy chuckles lightly. 

“Yeah,” Pansy was still incredibly pale, bones still fighting desperately to heal themselves against the curse she had taken on after the blast. 

“Did they find a cure?” Harry asks, jerking a thumb at her arm and Pansy eventually nods. 

“Yes. I should be discharged tomorrow,” She sighs. “How did you find her, anyway?” 

“It wasn’t exactly my doing,” Harry admits sheepishly. “I heard her picking up something from the pharmacy from a Mediwitch and recognized her name,” 

Pansy nods, expecting no less but pleased with the answer. “You think we’ll find him soon?” She asks softly and Harry shrugs, heart racing at the possibility. 

“I hope so,” Is all he can manage.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been ages since I've updated! I've gotten sucked into a different fandom and fixated on that for a while but I'm back now. Much love and enjoy x

“They’re alive,” Jasmine says the moment she walks through the front door, two days later. 

Draco eyes Jasmine with slight confusion before it clicks. “Pansy and Harry?” He asks hopefully and watches the light mage nod enthusiastically. 

“I saw them a few days ago when I was at St. Mungos picking up more faebane antidote for you,” She explains with a grin, setting the corked vials into Draco’s palms. 

“Are they alright?” 

Draco watches Jasmine’s strawberry blond hair bounce as she nods again. “Pansy broke her arm and burnt her hands but she seems okay otherwise,” 

Draco lets off a sigh of relief and puts his head in his hands, eyes watering with happiness. His friends were alive. They hadn’t died from the trap Fawna had sent. “Thank Merlin,” He whispers into his calloused hands. 

“Are you alright?” Jasmine asks, looking him over. Draco looks up at her then, nodding. Fawna had roughed him up a bit after she had confronted him about the owl. He had cuts that would soon scar to prove it. She had forced him to summon his wings before sicking her cronies on him, cutting deeply into them. He had lost enough blood to the point where he was barely able to stand and only then does Fawna order them to stop. 

He had been laying on the couch for the past hour, praying for his wounds to knit quickly but knew the odds of that were slight. He could only wish to be that lucky. Jasmine had done enough for him, he wasn’t about to inconvenience her any longer. She didn’t deserve that. 

“Alright good,” Jasmine smiles before walking off. Draco waits a few minutes before stumbling to the bathroom to shower, hoping the warm water would soothe his aching body. When he strips from his clothes, he cringes at the angry gashes across his shoulder blades and the deep bruising lining the majority of his body. He knew this would take a while to heal; ever since Jasmine had informed him about the spell Fawna had put him under to slow his healing, he hadn’t been expecting any less. He just hoped Fawna wouldn’t use him to the point where he would pass out again. He wasn’t sure if he could handle that. 

He sighs shakily when he watches dried blood run orange-pink down the drain the more he stands under the shower, knowing the action was a pathetic attempt at recuperating. Only time could heal his wounds; hot showers wouldn’t do much. 

When Draco makes it back to his bedroom, he finds Fawna already there. He had shoved the vials of faebane antidote into his jeans when he had left the bathroom and was suddenly all too aware of them as Fawna gives him a soft smile. She had figured out what he had done to the letter. He was worried she could read him like a book now. 

“Come, Draco,” She calls, grin only widening and Draco sighs, doing as he’s told and strips from his clothes when she orders him to. He’s careful not to break the glass as he drops his jeans and enters the bed, fighting to keep a look of distaste off his face when Fawna begins kissing down his neck. He supposed sex was better than killing and controlling people but it was still something he hated; he constantly felt dirty and disgusting afterward. He hated feeling like such a fucktoy. 

Only when Fawna is properly satisfied does she let Draco go to bed. He knew by the time he woke up the next morning that he would feel the slightest bit better but had a feeling actually falling asleep would be a problem with the amount of pain he was in. He should’ve told Jasmine about what Fawna had done to him but didn’t want to strain her magic. He wasn’t sure if mages’ magic worked the same way witches and wizards did. Harry often told him being an Auror was difficult because he constantly had to push himself and his magical core to the limit and didn’t want to end up hurting Jasmine in any way. She was already doing so much for him and Draco didn’t want to take advantage of her. 

Besides, with time his body would heal itself on its own. If he ended up with a few scars, so be it. All that mattered now was that he would make it through another day. Looking on the bright side was rare for Draco but he realized now more than ever that this would make him out to be a better, stronger person. And if Pansy and Harry managed to find him, he may be out of here sooner than he had anticipated. 

Once he was sure that Fawna was asleep, he slips out of bed and heads over to his dresser, pulling a flask of both a healing potion and a faebane antidote out of a pair of socks and downs it quickly. The blond tried to use them sparingly but was in too much pain. After the goblins had cut open his wings, they had rubbed faebane into them as well and they hurt like hell. Draco wasn’t sure he could handle much more of this. He knew the potion would help but that the pain medication would wear off eventually. 

As he downs them both in one gulp, he tries not to think about that. The medication had a sedative effect and Malfoy falls asleep within minutes, too exhausted to even mind the arm Fawna wrapped around his middle. 

When he wakes up hours later, muscles screaming with pain, he stumbles out of bed and into the bathroom. Fawna still slept soundlessly on the large mattress, not having noticed his absence and Draco sighs with relief. He summons his wings as soon as he had shut the door behind him and cringes at the brutal cuts that stood out against the feathers. They weren’t infected, thank god. The potions he had taken last night seemed to help with that but Draco wasn’t willing to take any chances. He didn’t want to risk infection for a second time. He didn’t know what he’d do if something like that happened again. 

He grabs the healing ointment Jasmine had hidden there for him and rubs the salve on his wings, cringing at the sting as it worked it’s magic. He waited a few minutes before retracting his wings and leaving the bathroom. The house was eerily quiet as Draco pads down the hall, footsteps nearly silent as he glides against the wood flooring. He wanted to test his wings. He hadn’t flown at all since he had gotten to Fawna’s and knew the less he used them, the weaker they’d get. If Draco had the chance to escape, he’d have to fly and wasn’t confident that he’d be able to successfully get away. 

Sighing, Draco stumbles over to Fawna’s study, closing the door behind him and begins shuffling through her paperwork. It was already things he had seen before; plots for how to take over the Ministry since the Minister had been dead for days, spellwork she had begun to work up but freezes when he sees something new. A photograph of Harry with the words “create spellbound contract with Potter” scrawled beside it. She was looking into roping in Harry too? Draco couldn’t let that happen. He understood why Fawna wanted him. Harry could get whatever he wanted as long as he so much as asked for it and knew he would be a great acquaintance if Fawna had managed to convert him. Harry would never turn dark no matter the circumstance, however. He had been around enough dark magic for a lifetime. Surely he wouldn’t willingly surround himself with it. 

He puts the paperwork back as it had been before leaving her study. Draco needed to shut this down and quickly as he could. He couldn’t risk letting Potter get himself into more trouble than he had already been in. Harry had been blasted by a trap Fawna had set up and had undoubtedly been injured. Draco wouldn’t allow him to sacrifice his safety anymore.

Draco can’t help but simply mull in his anxiety. He still hadn’t found a way to leave the cabin without being in excruciating pain so leaving wouldn’t be an option. Jasmine was working with Potter now so his escape was hopefully sooner rather than later. Fawna’s plan to collect Harry however was disturbing. Draco didn’t even want to imagine what she would do with him. Would she force him into sex acts, make him kill people and other things against his will? He shudders at the thought, disgusted. 

When his bedroom door opens, Draco stills, looking up and expecting Fawna to be in the doorway but is surprised when Jasmine stands there instead. “I went into Fawna’s study,” Draco murmurs as she enters the room, shutting the door behind her. “She wants to capture Harry and use him to help her take over the Ministry,” Jasmine’s eyes widen at this, seemingly have been unaware. “If that happens, the wizarding world can all kiss their freedom goodbye,” He continues at the light mage’s silence. “So we need to keep that from happening the best we can. Would you be able to contact him? I think Fawna would realize if her owl was gone,” 

Jasmine nods in understanding. “I’ll talk to him as soon as I can,” She promises. 

Draco feels his heart rate slow, anxiety finally lessening. “Thank you,” He whispers with a gentle smile. 

Jasmine offers one in return yet both of their eyes widen quickly with fear when they watch the door handle turn as Fawna was moments from entering. Thinking quickly, Jasmine grabs Draco’s face and kisses him hard. Draco forces himself to relax, melting into the kiss and feins shock when Fawna gasps at the two of them. “What the bloody hell is happening here?” She hisses and Draco forces his eyes downward, real fear running through his veins now. 

“Fawna, I--” Draco begins, sheepish and blushing profusely. He knew why Jasmine had kissed him; she had made it look as though they had stuck away together instead of working to plot against her. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” She scowls. “Draco, come with me,” 

Draco hesitantly does as he’s told, breaking away from Jasmine and coming to her side. “Where are we--” He begins but pauses as soon as she grabs ahold of his wrist and transports them elsewhere. With wide eyes, Draco recognizes their location instantly. They were at his mother’s home. He was flooded with confusion all at once. “Why are we here?” He asks finally and Fawna simply grins sardonically. 

“It’s time to teach you a lesson,” She says simply before guiding him down the hall until they come in contact with Narcissa who sat in her work study, bowed over a mountain of paperwork, looking healthier than ever. 

“Mum,” Draco whispers wetly, tears collecting in his eyes, an identical shade of grey to her own. 

Narcissa looks up with surprise at her son, shocked to see him after nearly two months of been convinced she would never again. “Draco, what’re you doing here?” She murmurs before locking eyes with Fawna whose gaze with sharp and dangerous. 

“I-- I don’t--” Draco stammers with equal confusion. “I’m not sure,” He finally admits but stops short from continuing when Fawna laughs menacingly. 

“You’re going to cause her pain, Draco,” The mage finally explains. “You’re going to make her feel the pain that you’ve caused me,” 

At this, Draco’s blood runs cold. “What?” He whispers. “I-I can’t--”

“You must,” She hisses. “Or I’ll reverse the healing spell I’ve put on your mother and she will die,” 

A choked sob get stuck in Draco’s throat and he stumbles back a few steps, horrified. He couldn’t hurt his mother. He refused. Before Draco can do a thing, however, Narcissa is up in a flash, holding her hand out and sends a bolt of electricity through Fawna’s body. The red haired mage convulses before falling to the ground, unconscious. “Go, Draco,” Narcissa murmurs, picking up her wand and casts a stasis charm on her. “Find Harry and Pansy. We’ll figure this out together.” 

Draco nods with determination. “Mum. She... She made me kill the Minister,” He whimpers through a thick round of tears. “I didn’t want to. I--” 

Narcissa moves closer to her son, pressing a kiss to his forehead and squeezing his hand gently. “I know, my love. I know. We’ll figure this out together,” She echoes before nudging Draco gently toward the door. He takes one final look at Fawna before leaving his mother’s house and summoning his wings, taking off into the skies. He groans as soon as he gets a few feet into the air, struggling to stay airborne as sharp pains like knives penetrate every part of his body. The flight to Pansy’s house seems like the longest it’s ever been, the intense pain causing time to slow. 

When he gets to Pansy’s doorstep, he knocks weakly before waiting for the door to open. Once it does, Pansy eyes him with both shock and relief. “Draco,” She whispers, pulling him into her arms, arm stuck in the sling poking his ribs and he flinches slightly. Touch had been something he now struggled with, having been forced into acts that he hadn’t wanted to commit. Draco pulls away and summons his wings back, feathers wet with both blood and sweat, cuts reopening from the strain. “What happened to you?” Pansy asks with furrowed eyebrows, not having witnessed his anxiety as she witnesses him continue to wince and writhe with pain. 

“The mage cast a spell on me that causes me pain when I’m away from her,” Draco whimpers as she pulls him inside, setting him on the couch, thinking. She takes out her wand and murmurs something under her breath and within a few moments, the pain had lulled to a dull ache. “What did you do?” He asks, blinking away the dark dots behind his vision. 

“I cast the first counter-curse I could think of,” Pansy admits. “By the look of things it worked,” She holds a cocky smile and Draco can’t help but laugh. There was the Pansy he missed. He had only been away from her for just under two months and it felt like a lifetime. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

“My wings,” Draco croaks, turning on his back and arching so they would have room to summon. When they do, Pansy fights hard to keep the grimace off her face. Whatever cuts had been healing in these past few days had seemed to reopen and were bleeding profusely. 

“I’ll grab some healing ointment. Don’t move,” She orders and Draco can’t help but roll his eyes. 

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to,” He mutters into the pillow grumpily. 

It feels like an eternity before Pansy returns but Draco knew it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. He nearly moans with relief when she begins applying the balm to his shredded wings, frowning when clumps of his feathers fall into Pansy’s healed hand. Merlin, that was never a good sign. “Shit, what did she do to you?” She mutters under her breath and Draco didn’t bother responding since he didn’t have any sensible input. 

“Where’s Harry?” Draco slurs quietly. 

“He’s at his flat. I’m about to Firecall him so I’ll be right back,” She promises. The blond nearly pleads for her to stay, worried she’d be ripped from his grasp once again but lets her go, wanting to see Potter again. He wasn’t sure why he missed the boy anyway; maybe it was the fact that he was used to seeing him nearly everyday and now hadn’t seen him in months. 

He figured that was the only plausible option. 

When Pansy returns, she holds a soft smile. “Harry’s on his way. Are you feeling any better?” She asks gently and Draco nods the slightest bit. 

“I don’t think the curse is completely broken,” He admits eventually. “It still hurts but not nearly as bad,” 

“Harry is a cursebreaker. He should be able to properly fix it but I’m hoping it’ll work for now,” Draco knew instantly that he could trust whatever work Harry would have to do on him. The boy had spent countless hours trying to find him. His life had literally been in Potter’s hands so he could trust him with breaking this curse as well. 

When Pansy’s wards ping in warning of a visitor, Pansy stumbles over to the door and allows Potter inside. The boy moves past her to find Draco on the couch and sighs with relief at the sight of him. He was alive. That was all that mattered now. Whatever else was wrong they could somehow fix. As long as Draco didn’t get captured by Fawna again. “What happened to him?” Harry asks, eyeing the pained and bleeding boy. 

“He got hit with some sort of curse,” Pansy explains quickly. “I tried countering it but Draco says it’s not completely broken. I think you’re the only one who could fix it,” 

“What’s the curse doing, Draco?” Harry asks gently. 

“Whenever I get out of Fawna’s range it’s like I’m being sliced open,” Draco whimpers, tears collecting in his eyes. The more they waited, the worse the pain got and soon enough, Draco is groaning with pain. His wings emerge, as they often did when he was in tremendous amounts of pain and screams in agony when the cuts reopen once again. “Make it stop, please,” He begs through his tears and Harry nears closer instantly. 

“Curse-breakers usually work on tombs and bewitched objects so it won’t be exactly the same but--” 

“Harry please!” Draco shrieks with tears streaming down his face and Harry instantly shuts his mouth, raising his wand and undoes the curse with a few flourishes of his wand. Malfoy lets out of sigh as he relaxes slightly into the couch before speaking again, tone much more subdued than it had been moments before. “She put some other sort of spell on me,” He says at last. “It slows down my healing so I won’t be powerful enough to hurt her but still able to control other people,” Harry nods again, raising his wand and reverses that curse as well. “She said if I ever tried to escape she would revoke the healing she did on my mother and that she would die,” The blond whispers weakly. “Mum has her captured under a stasis spell but I don’t know how much longer that will hold her. She’s really powerful,” 

“I’ll get ahold of Jasmine,” Pansy says. “Harry, call the Aurors and tell them to get to Narcissa Malfoy’s flat as quickly as possible. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt tonight,” 

Harry hums in response, turning to Draco once more before asking, “Are you okay now?” 

“I should be,” Draco promises. “Now that you lifted that delayed healing spell I should be in tip top shape in no time,” He grins and Harry can’t help but roll his eyes before turning on his heel and sends a Patronus off to the Ministry to contact their strongest Aurors along with the coordinates to Narcissa’s flat. 

“This will all be over soon,” Harry promises gently. “We’ve got you. We’ve always got you,” 

Draco nods, a wave of fatigue coming over him and he is lulled to sleep moments after.


End file.
